


I Believe In A Thing Called Love

by deandratb



Category: One Day at a Time (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-21 10:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13738692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deandratb/pseuds/deandratb
Summary: Friendly massage that’s perfectly harmless…until it’s not.“You need to sleep. You’ve tried everything that would normally help. Why not give me a chance?”





	1. Touching You

**Author's Note:**

> Blatant wish fulfillment for everybody who wants canon Alvareider yesterday. A plot bunny that seemed ridiculous but ended up making perfect sense.

He was on the way to his bedroom when he heard it. The muttering was quiet, but audible _...and in Spanish?_

Past midnight, Schneider didn’t usually hear voices outside his apartment.

Especially not one he recognized instantly.

“Penelope?” He opened his door and found her standing in the hallway staring at him like she had forgotten where she was.

“Hi.” Penelope ran a hand over her curls, then remembered. She was still in her pajamas, and her hair must look as though she'd been tossing and turning on it all night. Like her, it was a mess. “Hey, Schneider.” 

“What are you doing out here?”

Penelope crossed the hall toward him. “I couldn’t sleep and I had to get out of that room. I just...I needed some air, so I thought maybe a walk--but I couldn’t walk out there, in the middle of the night, obviously.”

“Oh, yeah, obviously.”

She barely registered his words, talking right past him while she turned to pace back in the other direction.

“Only I have been walking the halls now for twenty minutes--twenty minutes, Schneider, and it isn’t helping. I think I might be more awake than I was twenty minutes ago.”

“Okay. Okay!” Schneider grabbed her by the shoulders just to stop her increasingly manic pace. “Penelope.”

“Yeah.”

“The last time I saw you this amped up it was the day before Elena’s quinces and you’d had half a can of Cuban coffee. Are you caffeinated right now?”

“No.”

“Then what is up?”

“I can’t sleep. I have been trying to sleep, and I can’t, I can’t turn my brain off, you know? It’s just--” She circled her fingers toward the ceiling. “Going.”

“All right.”

“It’s been almost three hours now. I was afraid _Mami_ would wake up and hear me pacing and think something was wrong, so I went for a walk.”

“ **Is** something wrong?”

“I. Can’t. Sleep.”

He stepped back to his doorway. “Gotcha. I meant, besides that.” 

“Not really. I just can’t seem to relax. It happens sometimes,” she admitted quietly. “Less since I came home. Less since I started the meds.”

Schneider nodded, then stepped back again, crossing the threshold to his place. “Why don’t you come in?”

Penelope looked down the hall, mentally retracing her footsteps, and wondered if Schneider had heard her the first three times she’d walked this way. “Yeah, okay.”

“Want some water?”

“No, thanks.”

Once he shut the door behind her, Penelope was left standing awkwardly next to it. She didn’t really feel like sitting down, but she couldn’t pace around his breakables.

“Do you still have that spinning bike?”

He grinned. “Somehow I doubt that more exercise is a good solution for you right now.”

“Well, what would you suggest? How do you deal with insomnia?”

“I used to chase a handful of Ambien with a couple shots of Jack Daniels,” Schneider replied thoughtfully. “Always put me right out.”

He blinked. “Of course, waking back up had a **slightly** less consistent success rate. Now I mostly use sex.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”

“What? It expends energy, releases happy brain chemicals, usually leads right into a very relaxed state. Skin-to-skin contact even boosts your immune system, it was on the news.”

Penelope was still trying to banish the image of naked Schneider from her brain when his face lit up.

“I’ve got an idea.” Schneider rested his hand at the small of her back and guided her out of the living room. He was about to nudge her through his open bedroom door before Penelope realized what was happening and froze in place.

Schneider bumped into her, steadying himself with a grip on her shoulder. “What’s wrong? There’s something I can try, it might help.”

“You want to **try** something--in your bedroom? Do I look like an idiot?”

“God! Not that!” He stepped away, holding up his hands in defense. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Penelope.”

She folded her arms, staring him down until he elaborated.

“We need the bed, so you can lie down and hopefully relax enough to sleep. Go back home, or sleep here and I’ll take my couch, it doesn’t matter. But I figure you’re desperate, and I took a class.”

“In what?”

“Massage.”

“Oh, no. Not a chance.” Penelope retreated immediately, and he rushed to catch up. 

“C’mon, Pen, hear me out. You’re on your meds, right?”

“Yeah.” He was at her heels as she reached the front door, and she didn’t have the heart to slip out and shut it in his face. With a heavy internal sigh, she turned instead, and listened.

“Well, you’re on your meds like you’re supposed to be, you’re back in therapy...” Schneider sniffed the air between them. “You smell like Vicks VapoRub, so Lydia’s already done all she can for you. Is it stress? Work?”

“No, work’s fine. But yeah, stress is probably a factor. Finals are coming up,” she admitted, “and my grades are better, but they’re still not where they need to be. This semester is kind of my last shot.”

“Wow, no wonder you’re awake.” He nodded. “I don’t know what that’s like, exactly, I was never big on studying, but if I were you I’d have coffee in an IV right now. Straight to the brain.”

“An IV flows through the blood to the heart,” she corrected him.

“It makes it to the brain eventually, though, right? Because if I’m not getting any blood up there...that would explain some things.”

“Schneider, what’s your point?”

“You need to sleep. You’ve tried everything that would normally help. Why not give me a chance?”

Penelope dug her fingernails into her palms. When she considered her options, there was nothing there. Just more pacing.

She hated it, but she really was that desperate.

“No funny business?”

“Hand to God.” Schneider attempted the sign of the cross, looking a lot like a man fighting a drunken fly. “Just a massage.” 

“Fine. Ten minutes,” she decided. “And all my clothes are staying on.”

He rolled his eyes so hard she had to hide a smile. “I’m not trying to get you naked. If I were, you already would be. I’m that smooth.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” She followed him through the open doorway, stopping abruptly again when she saw his bed.

“Are...are those Batman sheets?”

“Awesome, right?” He saw the expression on her face and quirked the corner of his mouth up. “I wasn’t expecting company tonight.”

“What, the ladies aren’t hot for rich guys in rubber?”

She winced when she realized how that sounded.

Schneider just laughed, and let the opportunity pass him by. Instead, he pointed at the lake-sized mattress.

“Stomach down, ‘kay? I figure a nice, calm back massage is just the thing.”

 _This was so stupid,_ she thought. But she climbed onto his rumpled bed, praying fervently that he wasn’t checking out her ass when she was wearing her ugliest pair of pajama pants.

The mattress dipped as Schneider sat down, resting his thigh against her hip while she settled in. Penelope tried to focus on the coolness of the comforter underneath her, relaxing her toes where they were curling up anxiously.

“All right. I’m just gonna...” He laid his hands flat against her lower back, then lifted them back up.

She felt his fingertips brush her spine before he settled them higher, just under her shoulderblades. “There,” he decided. “There is good.”

Carefully, Schneider drew his fingers toward the center of her back, pressing lightly at first, then more firmly. He switched to the flats of his hands when she hummed in approval.

“Okay, that--” Penelope twisted around to stare at him over her shoulder. “That feels really good. How did you learn to do that?”

“I told you, I took a class. It seemed like a great way to meet women.”

She relaxed back against the mattress. “Mm. And did you?”

“Not really. It was such a brilliant idea that everybody there had the same one. Whole class of dudes. We had to practice on each other. Not exactly what I had in mind.”

Penelope chuckled, then bit down on a moan. “Yeah, okay. Right there. God, nobody should be this good with their hands.” _Especially not Schneider,_ she thought, slightly bewildered by this hidden talent of his.

“Thanks, I think. Whoa, that’s a knot.” Schneider focused in on a spot just below her shoulder. “You’re super tight, Pen--you weren’t kidding.”

“Why would I kid about that?”

“Okay, wait, you’re tensing back up.” He laid his palms flat against the center of her back, spreading his fingers out until she stilled. “Just try to relax.”

“Come on, take a few deep breaths for me.” His voice softened and he switched to rubbing slow circles. Up to her shoulders, down along her spine. Up, then back down, while she deliberately tried to calm her breathing.

 _How were Schneider’s hands so warm in the middle of winter?_ The heat from them was sinking into her skin, making Penelope feel floaty and closer to sleep. 

“There you go.” He flexed his fingers and started again, thumbs pressing into her lower back.

This time she managed not to moan, but she did let out a sharp breath. “You should do this for a living.”

“That’s not the kind of entrepreneur I want to be,” Schneider scoffed. “Touching strangers’ naked bodies? Carrying around one of those little tables? No thank you.”

He gentled his touch, working his fingertips down the curve of her neck as she sighed. “Besides, I’d much rather save my amazing talents for emergencies. Like a hyped up, exhausted friend.”

Penelope yawned into his pillow. It smelled like evergreen and mint.

“Schneider?”

He stopped moving. “Yeah?”

“Maybe this wasn’t the worst idea ever.”

She could practically hear the smile in his voice as he went back to working out the tension in her shoulders.

“You’re welcome, Pen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is completed and will be posted on 2/22.


	2. Touching Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Schneider’s not the only one who is good with his hands. _“Shut it.” She squeezed his hand. “I was talking about professional help. I might be able to ease up that muscle spasm, at least enough so you can breathe.”_

Penelope was studying in her empty apartment when the knock jolted her out of her reading.

Well, it wasn’t a knock so much as a thud. The sound alarmed her enough to have her off the couch immediately, leaving her books splayed across the cushions.

“Schneider!”

He was breathing hard, holding himself up with a hand braced against the doorframe, and even whiter than usual.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong?”

“Can...can I come in? I need to sit. Or lie down. Yeah, lying down sounds better.”

Schneider staggered past her when she stepped out of the way, dropping gracelessly onto the free couch cushion as she shut the door.

“Schneider, why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Because I’m dying.”

He groaned, and Penelope gathered up her papers to make space next to him.

“You’re not dying. Are you sick, though? Because I have a major math test coming up and I’d rather not add a fever to the mix.”

“No, I’m not contagious. Just in pain. I thought I could make it back from the McGurbs’ but I couldn’t walk any more.”

“Too much spinning again? Are your...” Penelope decided to leave that question unasked. “Are you numb?”

“I wish.” He tried to take a deep breath, but winced and hissed the air back out. “I think I pulled a muscle in my Bikram yoga class this morning. I never should have tried to hold that handstand for so long.”

“Handstands? Isn’t that more like gymnastics than yoga?”

Schneider sighed, clutching his torso. “It wasn’t an official pose. More...aspirational.”

“Stupid.”

“Yeah, not my proudest moment. There were pretty girls there, in clingy athletic wear. Anyway, I thought I was fine, I figured it would work itself out.”

“And?”

“Now I can barely walk. It’s like...it’s like the muscle knotted itself around all my other muscles and keeps squeezing tighter, and tighter...I just want to stay in the fetal position until it stops. Or I die.”

Schneider squeezed his eyes shut. “That would also be acceptable at this point.”

“Well, like I said, I have a test,” Penelope replied firmly. “You can’t die here.”

“Can I stay in the fetal position?”

“You mean, moaning and crying in my living room? No. **Studying,** Schneider. Reading and highlighting and attempting to retain information. What part of that says ‘please come disrupt the process with your whining?’”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I never should have--” He tried to stand and fell over, half on top of her. “Oh, my god. It’s bad, Pen. It really hurts.”

“Oomph. Get off me, you Canadian maple tree.” She helped him back down to the couch cushion, listening to his labored breathing. 

“You’re not kidding, are you? It’s really that bad.”

“It’s like I’m being stabbed with one of those grabber claw machine things, and then it’s twisting--”

Penelope clapped her hand over his mouth. “Okay. I get it. No more word pictures.”

Schneider sank into the couch, slumping a little while she frowned in his direction.

“I think you need to go to the ER, Schneider. If you’re having trouble breathing, it must be a really bad cramp.”

“No hospital.” He shook his head. “It’s just a muscle thing, it’ll stop eventually.”

“Will it stop in the next twenty minutes? ‘Cause that’s all the time I have before _Mami_ should be back with the kids and my quiet study night is over.”

“Probably not,” he admitted. “I’ll go.”

Schneider managed to stand, visibly sweating from the wobbly effort. Penelope couldn't ignore the sharp pang of guilt.

“No, don’t do that. You’ll pass out in the elevator and _Mami_ will find you stuck there in the morning when she leaves for Mass. You’re sure you don’t want to go to a doctor?”

“They have so many questions at the ER, Pen. 'What’s your insurance company?’ 'Do you have any allergies?’ 'Why did that pain pill we gave you result in your arrest for public nudity and vandalism?’ I don’t want to have to go through the whole thing...again.”

She nodded, resting her hand over his, where he was trying to push the pain back by force. “I get it. No hospital.”

“Thank you. I don’t want to wreck your night, though. Could you just help me up to my place?”

The thought probably wouldn’t have occurred to her if it were any other man on her couch, but when it did...she realized it wasn’t as crazy as it sounded in her head. Schneider had been there for **her** when she needed it.

“Maybe I can help you another way.”

“If you’re offering to put me out of my misery...not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, but I’m really looking forward to the next Deadpool movie.”

“Shut it.” She squeezed his hand. “I was talking about professional help. I might be able to ease up that muscle spasm, at least enough so you can breathe.”

Schneider blinked teary eyes at her from behind his glasses. “If you could, I would be eternally grateful. I’ll buy you lunch. No, dinner. No--a pony. Do you want a pony?”

“I just want my living room back,” she replied dryly. “Okay, easy now.”

Penelope pressed him into the back of the couch so that he was leaning away from her. Slowly, she pried his hand off his side, then tugged up the bottom of his t-shirt.

“Is this where it hurts?”

Her fingers were hovering near the skin he had reddened with pressure from his hands, but not touching. He flinched anyway. “Yeah. That’s the spot.”

“Okay. I’m not gonna lie to you, Schneider. This is going to hurt. But then it should get better. Ready?”

He squared his shoulders a little and nodded, fixing his trusting eyes on hers. “Ready.”

Later, she would tell that part of the story by comparing his scream to a wounded hyena. ‘A female one,’ Penelope insisted on adding, each and every time.

In the moment, Schneider nearly blacked out. But she was right, he could breathe again, after a few moments of her careful attention to the group of muscles that were seriously pissed at him.

“Okay. Okay--I’m okay.”

“I know you’re okay.” She smirked at him, with a fond sort of amusement. “It’s just a muscle cramp, Schneider, it’s not like you got shot.”

“A really, really bad muscle cramp.”

“Yes.” She brushed her thumb over his side, checking out the area now that he was taking deeper breaths. “Very bad, but I think you’ll survive. Maybe lay off the handstands for a while.”

Penelope rubbed slow, firm circles around the place he’d hurt, noting his sharp intake of breath. “Just need to make sure it’s not going to go back into spasm. There, how does that feel?”

His voice was tight when he replied. “It’s fine. Thanks, Pen.”

“Are you sure?” He didn’t sound fine. The edge in his tone worried her.

“Yeah. I’m good now.”

When she frowned and angled her fingers down a little, brushing them testingly over his skin, Schneider reached up and gripped her hand.

“Stop. Please.”

“What...”

Her eyes moved past his lap on their way to their joined hands, and Penelope was suddenly very aware of a different muscle group that was clearly in perfect health.

“Oh.” She pulled her hand back like he was on fire and stood up.

“Yeah. Um, sorry. I didn’t-I don’t--”

 _It didn’t have to be weird if they refused to make it weird,_ she decided. And she desperately wanted things to remain not-weird between them.

So Penelope ran a hand through her hair and chuckled. “Schneider, you know, it’s no big deal. You’re a guy; it happens. If I had a dollar for every patient that reacted that way during a basic physical exam...well, I’d be **you.** ”

“I...” His brow furrowed, but he changed his mind about whatever he was originally going to say. “Okay. Um, I think I can walk now. In a minute.”

She nodded. “Good. I’m glad. You’re not sweating anymore,” she added, pleased.

“Nope. That I am not,” he agreed. “You’re a miracle worker, Penelope Alvarez.”

“Ha. I’m just a nurse.”

“Miracles,” he countered seriously. “Working them. Often.”

Penelope waved it away, but a happy flash of warmth spread through her. "Alright,” she declared after giving him another minute to recover. “Let’s get you home. Can you stand on your own?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Slowly, Schneider straightened up to that ridiculous height of his--offering her a weak smile when he succeeded.

“Good. That’s good.” She led the way to the door, holding out a hand just above his waist in case he decided to do something terrible, like fall over.

“I highly recommend a heating pad,” Penelope advised him as they walked down his hallway. “No ice--you don’t want the muscles to cool down and tighten up before they’re ready. But a low heat, that will help them stay relaxed while you recover. And not too much moving around. You hear me?”

“Yeah, Lupe, I hear you. Heat good, cold bad.”

They were outside his door before Schneider realized she was staring at him. The familiar nickname had fallen off his tongue by accident; he called her that in his head sometimes, though it felt too personal to actually say out loud.

He blamed the pain. Clearly, it shut his brain right off.

“So...thanks. I’m feeling much better. I’m gonna buy you that pony,” he added faintly when Penelope just kept staring.

That seemed to snap her out of whatever she was thinking. She smiled when she registered his words.

“No, thanks. What would I do with a pony?”

“I don’t know. Braid its tail? I thought every little girl dreamed of having a pony when she grew up.”

“Some of us prefer flowers,” Penelope told him, grinning, before she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek in farewell.

“I’m not kidding, though, Schneider,” she added as she backed down the hall, facing him until she disappeared around the corner. “Put some heat on that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is drafted and will be posted on 2/26.


	3. Touching You, God You’re Touching Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope comes to his door again. Things get…casual. _“Penelope, you’re in my bed.” “Schneider,” she echoed his tone teasingly, “I’m **on** your bed, not in it.” She slid her hand down, curving it around the nape of his neck. “But I could be in it, if you’re interested.”_

The knock was so quiet that Schneider thought he was hearing things at first.

It wasn’t his imagination; Penelope was at his door in a shimmery tank top and washed out jeans, her hair tugged back into a careless ponytail. 

“Hey. Thanks for the flowers.” 

Thirty seconds earlier, Schneider had been reading a book–but now, with her standing there in front of him, he couldn’t have offered up the title or the author for a million dollars.

“Oh! Good, you got them.” 

“Didn’t they do that confirming delivery thing?”

“Well, yeah, but sending them to your work…there’s always a risk they’ll make it to the wrong person anyway.”

Penelope nodded. “I’m glad you’re still up. Can I come in?”

“Of course.” He frowned as she brushed past him on her way inside. “It’s ten o’clock. Who goes to bed before ten o’clock?”

“I don’t know, I figured maybe you had an early class or something.”

“If it meant going to bed that early, I would have to be teaching the class,” Schneider joked, leaning back against his closed door.

She tugged at the hem of her top. “And yes, I got them. They’re beautiful. Apparently Dr. Berkowitz loves lilies…but he wouldn’t have stolen them, I promise.”

“I was more worried about the super drunk lady from his birthday party.”

“Oh, right.” She laughed. “I forgot about that. You looked uncomfortable that whole night–which is weird, Lori is so your type.”

“You’re so very wrong,” he argued. “I promise you, ‘too drunk to remember me in the morning’ isn’t my thing. Not anymore.”

Penelope smiled. “Yeah, I actually do know that. I like that about you, Schneider.“

He paused expectantly, as though he was missing the punchline. “That I prefer my women sober?”

“That you would’ve poured Lori into an Uber no matter how hard she threw herself at you. That you would do the same for me, without question. You’re one of the good ones. I really appreciate that.”

Schneider shrugged. “Thanks. I mean, that’s just basic human decency, but whatevs.”

Penelope shook her head. “Why do you have to talk like a twelve-year-old on the internet?”

“I beg your pardon. I have the vocabulary of at **least** a sixteen-year-old on the world wide web.”

“I actually have a sixteen-year-old,” she reminded him. “And she would never call it the world wide web.”

“Yeah, well, Elena’s special.”

“True.”

They were still standing in the foyer, Schneider wasn’t sure why–but something told him Penelope would turn down any hospitable offer of a beverage.

She was fidgeting where she stood, which was only slightly less concerning than watching her pace.

“You okay?”

Penelope nodded, lacing her fingers together before she spoke. “You know that thing, where you’re ridiculously good with your hands?”

The shock and confusion was genuine when Schneider paused, gaping at her. He recovered enough to offer her a slight grin. “Yeah, I’m all kinds of talented.”

Then he caught the way she was tapping her foot, remembered the pacing of last time, and what it meant. “Are you having trouble relaxing again?”

If she came here for help with that, it was surprising, but it also made sense.

There was a slight hesitation before Penelope nodded. “I am very far from relaxed.”

“Okay.” Though he was getting a vibe he couldn’t quite place, Schneider shrugged and nodded toward his bedroom. “Well, I’m not busy. Ten minute back massage?”

“Shoulders?” Penelope countered as she followed him through the door. “A shoulder massage sounds really good right now.”

His brow furrowed at her tone. Something about it was tugging at his memory. _What did it remind him of?_

This time, Penelope didn’t hesitate, settling on top of his neatly-made bed with a little sigh. “I really appreciate it, Schneider,” he heard float up from his comforter, where her face was pressed.

“You know I’m happy to help,” he replied. “I hate the idea of you working and going to school on no sleep.”

“Yeah.”

She was centered on the bed, not braced and ready to bolt like before, so he had to scoot closer to the middle of the mattress to reach her. It left him in an odd position, leaning awkwardly over Penelope to avoid sitting too close.

“You good?”

Her quiet state was starting to freak him out. She didn’t seem hyper like last time, and when he laid his hands on her shoulders, she wasn’t tensed up, either. 

“Mm-hmm.” Penelope curled one of her hands around the corner of his pillow, and he tried not to think about the fact that her scent was going to linger on his sheets. 

“Alright.” Schneider started gently working his fingers along the curve of her shoulders, then froze when she made an approving noise in response.

It was low, and throaty, and–well, sexual. He was an adult, he could admit it. It was a sexy noise. 

“Penelope?”

“Yes?” 

“You don’t seem…stressed.”

“Hmm.” Still muffled by the pillow, Penelope mumbled something Schneider couldn’t make out, then turned over to face him.

The movement of the bed upset his balance, and he almost fell across her. His hand narrowly missed her elbow when he reached out to brace himself, and she scooted closer to make room.

That was how Schneider found himself only inches above his best friend, his arms on either side of Penelope while she lay on his bed. His big, lately **very** empty bed.

“Did I say I was stressed?”

“Huh?” _Right. They’d been having a conversation._ Suddenly Schneider was acutely aware of his limbs, and where they were positioned, and how thin Penelope’s tank top was.

“I don’t think I ever told you I was stressed,” Penelope repeated, slower this time. She was watching him from under her eyelashes, knowingly. Almost challengingly.

He remembered now.

 _“I helped turn a couple of boys to men,”_ she told him that night with a smile. 

Back then, she was just enjoying the memory. But here, much too close to the quick rise and fall of her chest while her knee was brushing his hip, he recognized her tone.

“No,” Schneider replied carefully. “You never said you were stressed. Or that you couldn’t sleep.”

Penelope tapped a finger to her bottom lip, eyes amused…and then she smiled that siren smile.

“I guess I didn’t.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Schneider shoved against the mattress, pushing himself up and away from her so he could breathe again. He couldn’t keep the hint of panic out of his voice.

“What’s happening here?”

“I thought it was obvious. I’m getting a rub down,” she told him, a glint in her eyes that screamed _Danger_ to Schneider as clearly as the thudding base of the club music that used to precede his highest highs.

“And when you’re finished with me,” Penelope continued, “I thought I’d…do you.”

He swallowed so hard that the sound of it echoed, and very carefully kept his eyes from wandering anywhere south of her neck. 

“Have you been drinking?”

“Completely sober.” Her eyes softened, roaming his face before she lifted her hand to his cheek. “Schneider, if I were drunk, I would never bring that to your doorstep. Not like this. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Then I don’t understand. Penelope, you’re in my bed.”

“Schneider,” she echoed his tone teasingly, “I’m **on** your bed, not in it.” 

She slid her hand down, curving it around the nape of his neck. “But I could be in it, if you’re interested.”

Schneider wasn’t proud of it, but he shuddered. Just a little. 

“I have no clue what’s going on right now, Pen, I really don’t–but if I didn’t know better I would think you meant that.” 

“I told you, I came for those magnificent hands of yours,” she insisted quietly. “I did mean it.”

“But–”

“Hey.” With her fingertips, she tilted his chin down so his eyes met hers. “I can go home, if you want.”

He couldn’t think of anything he wanted less. He also couldn’t trust that this was more than a **really** vivid dream.

Until Penelope leaned up, crossing the space he had put between them, just enough to rest her forehead against his.

It was such a sweet and undemanding gesture–while the rest of her was inviting his wickedest thoughts–that Schneider was certain it wasn’t in his head. Only Penelope could tug at his heart and seduce him at the same time, without even trying.

Schneider closed his eyes and murmured her name like a prayer–a plea to any higher power that was listening.

 _God, I love her._

That was both the reason he had secretly dreamed of this for months, and the reason why he knew it shouldn’t happen.

It could ruin everything. It could change everything.

He would be risking the loss of her mom, and her kids, and all the family meals and baseball games and late night knocks on his door that gave him a reason to keep going.

Penelope pulled back enough to look at him, his thoughts so loud he was surprised she couldn’t hear them too.

“Schneider. Do you want me to go?”

“Never,” he whispered, more to himself than anything, and watched her eyes narrow. 

“What?”

He cleared his throat. “Never. I..I don’t want you to go,” Schneider admitted, watching her smile bloom again. “But, I also don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and realize this was a terrible idea…and shut me out.”

“You have forty keys to my apartment,” she pointed out. “I couldn’t shut you out if I wanted to.”

“You know what I mean.”

 _Ay, por el amor de Dios._ Penelope sighed and shifted back a little so she could sit up and face him. “Schneider, I’m not drunk, or sleep-deprived. I put on makeup to come here. This was not a whim.”

“Okay…”

“If I thought there was any chance I’d regret this in the morning, I wouldn’t be here. If **you** think you might regret it, then I should go–I don’t want to lose you either. But I came here because I want you…and I thought maybe we were on the same page. It doesn’t have to mean more than that.”

“You mean, you want to keep things casual?”

Penelope ran her fingers through his hair. “I mean, I’m here tonight. Can’t that be enough for now?”

There was no one on Earth he trusted more than the woman sitting in front of him. And there was no one he had ever wanted more, in the moment, than Penelope Alvarez sitting on his bed in threadbare jeans and red lipstick.

He was very careful these days, about the choices he made. He had to be.

But some things were worth the risk.

With a firm nod, Schneider set his worries aside and closed the inches that separated them. “It’s all good,” he agreed, pressing the words into the skin of her bare shoulder before finding her mouth with his.

There was no hesitation when their lips met, none of the caution that usually accompanied first kisses. Schneider kissed her like a drowning man breaking the surface of the sea, waves upon waves with the ground shifting underneath them. He kissed her like he’d just been waiting for permission.

Penelope murmured things in Spanish between kisses, while her hands moved restlessly over his shoulders, and chest, and stomach. With the part of his brain that was still working, he vowed to look up the words he didn’t recognize. 

"I figure we’ve got about an hour before _Mami_ sends the search party,” she told Schneider, as his fingers brushed her ribcage and she pulled his t-shirt over his head. 

“Where does she think you are?”

“Here. With my friend,” Penelope added, kissing him hard.

“Mm. Then it would be a really quick search party, wouldn’t it?” 

Schneider grinned against her neck after he left a mark there. “Hey, Penelope?”

“Yeah?” She toyed with his fingers, watching their hands link and unlink instead of looking at him. 

“Since Lydia knows where to find you…should we maybe have locked my door?”

“Crap!” If her _Mami_ texted and didn’t hear back, she definitely wouldn’t wait for an answer. 

Penelope scrambled off the bed–”Graceful,” Schneider remarked as she left his room–and locked both locks for good measure.

Her nerves wanted to creep back in as she made the short walk back.

There Schneider was, perched in the center of his mattress, his shirt in a neat square at the foot of the bed. “I was gone two seconds,” she thought out loud. “You folded your shirt.”

“It’s a nice shirt,” he replied. “I hate when they get all wrinkled.”

“It’s cute.”

Her nerves settled when he smiled, that odd, soft smile that Schneider reserved just for her. “C’mere, Pen.”

She took his hand again when she sat. “Hey.”

“Hey. Change your mind?”

“Nope. You?”

“No.” But he looked away when he said it, their hands still joined. She let go.

“Schneider.”

He blinked at her after she set his glasses aside. “Yeah?” 

“Still worried?” 

“A little.”

“Me too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Penelope smoothed her hands over his temples, brushing back the hair she’d mussed earlier. Then she kissed him, carefully. Slowly. Like a test. 

There was still a spark there. Strange, but undeniable. She hadn’t expected to wake up one morning and find it there after years of knowing him…yet here they were.

"It doesn’t have to mean more than we want it to,” Penelope said when she pulled back. “It’s us.”

“Us. Right.” Her hands were trailing down his stomach, closer to the waistband of his jeans, and Schneider was losing the thread of the conversation. 

The last time was an accident, a super embarrassing reaction he hadn’t been able to control. This time, Penelope knew exactly what she was doing, and her smug little smile made it even worse.

Schneider pulled her closer just to stop her roaming fingers, kissing the exposed line of her throat until her eyes fluttered closed.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything at all,” Penelope added faintly before his mouth found hers again.

Sinking into the kiss, warming under his hands as they mapped her curves…she didn’t know if it was Schneider she was trying to convince, or herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 will be posted on 3/3.


	4. All The Feelings That You're Making Me Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets and stolen moments. They’re playing with fire, but it works. _“Brushing past me in the kitchen. Biting your bottom lip when you knew I was watching. But really now…your hand on my thigh under the table? Low blow, Penelope. Not fair.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I wanted to do a little bit more with these two than I could reasonably fit in this chapter, so I'm adding an extra. :) The conclusion will go up on 3/5.

The most astounding thing about the relationship Penelope fell into with Schneider was how easy it was. 

She didn’t have to be somebody she wasn’t, she didn’t have to try too hard. Schneider looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, whether she was in a low-cut wrap dress or Cheeto-dusted sweatpants. 

And underlying all the rest of it, Penelope trusted him. So instead of being stressful or tiring on her busiest days, it was fun.

Neither of them was particularly good at keeping secrets, but her family **expected** them to spend time together. Penelope just became a little less specific about what exactly they were doing when she went to see him. And after all, was it really her fault if Lydia or Elena or Alex heard ‘getting in a workout’ and assumed they were spinning?

Schneider was more experienced with casual sex, but he followed her lead without protest--even though this time it hadn’t been his idea. And whenever Penelope braced for things to get complicated, he surprised her.

After their third evening together, he slipped a key into her hand, in a move she decided was way too smooth.

One moment Schneider was kissing her next to his front door, reluctant to let her leave--only the threat of Lydia's impatience made him pull back, fingers still resting possessively on her collarbone--and then Penelope felt the cold metal pressed between their joined hands.

“Anytime,” he told her quietly. 

Schneider must have seen the confusion on her face, the wheels that started turning, 'cause he kissed the tip of her nose and grinned. “I mean, you’ll still need to text first if you want to be sure I’m here...but this’ll be easier, right?”

“You don’t mind if I--”

“Pen. Don’t be an idiot.” He leaned down and kissed her until she relaxed. “You know where I keep the good water, so you can make yourself at home. Whenever.”

He grinned again as he stepped back from the door. “Just don’t look in my bedroom closet.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. If it worried her, how much she wanted to linger there with him instead of going home, she wasn’t willing to think about it. “Porn?”

“Psh. Origami!”

She made a mental note to go looking for his origami stash at the first available opportunity--he was so weird.

Adorable and weird.

****

She was not entirely comfortable with how addicted to Schneider she got, how quickly. The way he was always in the back of her mind now, her need for him like an itch between her shoulderblades that wouldn’t let her relax. It made her feel like a teenager again, only worse, because she was forty years old and somehow she still had to avoid her _Mami_ \--and her kids.

But Penelope couldn’t remember the last time she was this happy, slipping out of her apartment on the weekends and interrupting his weird hobbies in the middle of the day. Seeing him several nights a week, coming home spent and glowing and only a little bit guilty.

 _Didn’t she deserve to be happy?_ Didn’t her best friend--who she had threatened with bodily harm if he ever used the phrase ‘junk buddy’ in her direction--whisper those exact words to her while he was wrapped around her, noticing the way doubts crossed her face if she thought too hard about what they were doing?

There was a part of her that knew Schneider was worth more than stolen hours and secret glances, so much more...but he didn’t push. He didn’t even mention it. She was too grateful to wonder why.

Her eyes met his furtively during dinner hours, both of them aware that if they weren’t careful, somebody was going to figure it out. One night when Penelope went to her room after they cleared the table, he followed her.

“You just had to do it, didn’t you,” Schneider murmured in her ear, betting that if his voice was low enough, they wouldn’t be overheard. 

She kept her eyes trained on the closed door and her expression perfectly blank. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Brushing past me in the kitchen. Biting your bottom lip when you knew I was watching. But really now...your hand on my thigh under the table? Low blow, Penelope. Not fair.”

“That’s quite the accusation.” Her hands found their way to his chest, under the grey button-down he was wearing.

He never had to get dressed up to eat with them, and God knew she didn’t need him all fancy...but for some reason it was driving her crazy. 

“Schneider,” Penelope said against his ear, just the slightest hint of a whine in her tone--and he had to stop himself from doing something stupid right there, with her thin walls and unlocked door offering them no security at all.

He let himself have a moment anyway, just one, his fingers sliding down her back and his mouth teasing hers. Payback for the evening of mild torture, before Schneider shook his head and stepped away. “You know we can’t,” he reminded her softly. “Not here.”

“Yeah.” She breathed out her frustration, closing her eyes and indulging the briefest fantasy of pulling him into her bedroom closet--then let it go. If they wanted to be openly together, they'd have to come clean with her family...all of whom would be expecting an actual relationship.

The idea terrified her. 

****

“So...casual,” Penelope said, her head pillowed on his chest on a Saturday afternoon. 

Penelope had told her _Mami_ she was studying--she’d drilled herself on vocab for chemistry on her way upstairs, so it wasn’t a total fabrication--and let herself into Schneider’s apartment.

He had to make excuses and leave Elena on building maintenance, but he was there three minutes after she texted. 

“Hmm?”

Schneider was running his hand over her bare back absently, small soothing circles. He always seemed to be in motion, even during quiet moments, something Penelope was surprised she hadn’t noticed before they started this.

“The whole casual thing,” she elaborated, covering a yawn. It was so decadent, stealing time in the middle of the day. She could get used to it. 

“What about it?”

“Can we...” She paused, searching for the right way to phrase it. “I mean, you and I, keeping it easy, you know I love it.”

Schneider kissed the curve of her shoulder. “Penelope, I’m not doing this with anybody else--if that’s what you’re trying to figure out how to ask.”

“Oh.”

“And before we have to go fifteen rounds on the specifics,” he added, pressing kisses up her neck until he reached that spot behind her ear that drove her crazy, “I’m not doing **anything** with anybody else.”

“Mm. Okay.” She arched back a little to give his mouth better access, then refocused. “Me neither, in case you wondered.”

“I didn’t.” Schneider chuckled when she glared at him. “I know you, Pen. You would’ve told me.”

“You’re probably right.” She pressed her lips to his before returning to his chest with a happy sigh. “Exclusive, then.”

“Casually exclusive,” he agreed, wrapping an arm back around her and settling in. 

“Casually exclusive.” Penelope tested the feel of it, and smiled. 

It sounded nonsensical on the surface, but it fit.

Just like her and Schneider.

****

“Has anybody seen my math notes?”

Dinner was over, but the family was still spread throughout the living room. Penelope was starting to get worried; she could have sworn she’d set them on the kitchen counter.

“Hey!” 

All eyes turned to her. “I have a test tomorrow and I need those notes. A little help, please?”

Schneider nodded and left Lydia on the couch where she’d been helping him practice his Spanish. “I’ll check the kitchen.”

“I already looked there.” Penelope sighed. “Check the hall table? Maybe they ended up in a drawer.”

“Somebody should search the couch,” he offered as he left. “It likes to eat stuff.”

_“Mami?”_

“Your papers are not in the couch, _mija,”_ Lydia replied. “But yes, I will look.”

Penelope decided her bedroom was a possibility, and headed in that direction. Her door wasn’t shut all the way, which gave her pause long enough to realize that Schneider wasn’t in the hall anymore. 

When Penelope entered her room, there was no sign of Schneider. She thought for a moment maybe he had slipped out down the fire escape. He could have learned that trick from her _Mami._

But as soon as she stepped inside, Schneider shut the door, from his spot standing behind it. 

“So that’s where you were hid--”

She lost the rest of her sentence when Schneider kissed her.

He swallowed her words, then her moan, his fingers digging into her hips where they stood.

With his eyes still shut, Schneider moved her toward the closed door, so slowly that when her back hit it, there wasn’t even a muffled thud. Just silence--and his hands were everywhere, more frantic than usual.

Penelope lost her capacity for rational thought for a few endless, dizzying seconds, meeting his eager mouth with hers and dimly hearing the click of her doorknob as Schneider locked it.

“God, Pen, you smell so good tonight,” he told her, kissing the nape of her neck and following that with the graze of his teeth.

“Schneider. What are we doing?” She whispered, pulling him away from the door.

“I just need...I just need a minute,” Schneider breathed against her ear. “I’ve missed you, Penelope. It’s been too long.”

“ _Ay,_ I know. School is kicking my ass and Dr. Berkowitz needed me to pick up hours after Lori left, and the kids are...”

“I get it. I didn’t think you were blowing me off,” he told her, leaning down to touch his forehead to hers. “I just needed this.” 

“A makeout session in my room?”

“You, in the nearest location at the soonest available opportunity.” Schneider grinned. “Which in this case, was your room. Not that I wouldn’t love to make good use of this particular location,” he added with a nod toward her bed. 

“I’ve missed you too,” Penelope admitted, running her hands up the front of his clingy ‘athleisurewear’ shirt. “Maybe I could come over tomorrow. After dinner.”

Schneider sank into kissing her, lingering for a dangerously long time before he answered. “Yeah, I’m not busy.”

She was breathing hard now, but she tugged him down for another kiss. _It was weird, wasn’t it, how much she really had missed him? Considering she still saw him for dinner most nights. And breakfast some mornings. And most weekend afternoons._

Like the last time he found her in her room, this was where they had to stop. This was the line between playing with fire and burning it all down.

Penelope could feel all the lean muscles in Schneider’s back through his ridiculous outfit. The itch to touch him was back; she ached.

She didn’t stop.

To his credit, Schneider tried a little bit harder than she did, pulling away to reach for her hands and halt their restless motion.

“We should head out.”

“I still haven’t found my notes,” she pointed out, standing on her toes to reach him.

Her tongue was teasing Schneider’s, and he would never have admitted it but in the dim light of her room, Penelope was certain she saw his eyes roll back in his head.

Schneider’s control was not easily snapped. In so many areas of his life, he had to avoid making even small mistakes because they could easily turn into big ones. 

Penelope loved that about him, actually, the sacrifices he made and the effort he put in, to be sober. To stay safe. 

So she couldn’t claim she seduced him into anything. When Schneider gripped her shoulders and moved her further from the door before he slid his warm hands under her shirt...it was a deliberate decision.

_And honestly, the fact that he made the conscious choice to give in?_

_Super hot._

She barely had time to blink before Schneider had her on top of her bed, then on top of him with those moves that always reminded her he was a yoga guy.

“You know we can’t actually,” he whispered before he pressed his mouth to the hollow of her throat.“They’re all out there. And you’re loud.”

Penelope laughed against his neck. “I know. Maybe I needed a minute too.”

Schneider stroked his hands down her stomach, looking up to grin at her when she shuddered. “Oh, and I stole your math notes. They’re under your pillow.”

“What?” She blinked at him until his words registered. “Wait--what?”

“I figured you might want to grab them before you leave.”

“You stole my notes?”

He kissed her surprised face. “Yep. Had to get you alone somehow.”

“Schneider! I almost had a heart attack looking for those.”

“You can punish me tomorrow,” he replied blithely, shifting her off him. “Time to go.”


	5. There’s A Chance We Could Make It Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia’s keen eye and Elena’s sharp tongue lead to a confession. 
> 
> _“Do you love me?”_
> 
> _“You know I do,” he said, without hesitating. “You and Lydia and the kids, you’re my family.”_  
> 
> _She shook her head. “No. Schneider. Are you **in** love with me?”_

Lydia was pursing her lips, her narrowed gaze moving from Penelope to Schneider and back again. He was deep in a discussion with Alex about baseball, while Elena quizzed her mom at the table.

“What is going on here?” She interrupted both conversations sharply.

“What’s going on where, _Mami?”_

“Between you…and Schneider. You were both looking for your papers for a long time the other day. And you have been very happy lately. I think there is something you are not telling me.”

Schneider’s face froze along with his vocal cords. Wisely, he remained silent.

But Penelope could feel her happy place, the oasis of their secret relationship, slipping out of her grasp in the face of her _Mami’s_ scrutiny. She forced a laugh. “Like what? You think there’s something **happening** between Schneider and me?”

“Oh, that’s a good one, _Abuelita.”_ Elena rolled her eyes and grinned at Alex. “Mom and Schneider?”

“It is not so crazy,” Lydia replied. “He is handsome, kind. He is family.”

“You’re just perpetuating the societal cliche that men and women can’t have friendships that don’t lead to sex.” Elena geared herself up for a lecture and Alex huffed out a sigh.

“I’ll be in my room,” he declared. “Text me when she’s done.”

“It’s so completely antiquated, _Abuelita,”_ Elena continued, “to assume that if two people are close, if they’re affectionate or spend time together, then they have to be having sex just because one is a man and one is a woman. First of all, that’s such a heteronormative way of looking at the world. And secondly–Schneider?!”

She kept talking, oblivious to his stricken expression. Penelope saw it, and scoured her brain for some way to stop Elena’s rant without outing them. Nothing was coming to mind, other than a dull, spreading terror.

It was either fear of losing the balance she and Schneider had found outside the rest of her life, or the growing feeling that holding her tongue was going to make things worse. Penelope couldn’t tell which.

“You’re right, he’s family,” Elena told Lydia. “But not that way. He is so not Mom’s type. You’ve seen the men she dates, badasses like her. They’re like, normal guys. Schneider’s a geek. And that’s why we love him,” she added quickly, smiling in his direction. “He’s fun and sweet and he’s kind of a big kid, but I mean, come on. Mom really isn’t somebody who goes for meaningless sex.”

Lydia, who was watching Schneider and Penelope as the rant progressed, held up a hand. “Elena. That is enough.”

“But I–”

“No. Enough.” She stood and crossed the room to Schneider, whispering something in his ear that the others couldn’t hear. Then she patted his hand and turned to Penelope. “Lupe, you need to talk to your daughter.”

“Yeah…I’m gonna go.”

Schneider’s face still had that frozen look to it, the one Penelope knew meant he was holding back whatever he was really feeling.

“Hey, wait. Elena, I’ll be right back.”

He was halfway down the hall before Penelope caught up. She couldn’t blame him for continuing to walk even when he heard her coming.

“Schneider, stop. Please?”

Shoulders braced for a blow, he halted. He didn’t turn to face her, so she stepped around him instead.

“I’m sorry. Seriously, Schneider, I am so, **so** sorry. She doesn’t mean it. You know Elena loves you. You’ve been incredibly there for her–for all of us. She’d be mortified if she realized she was insulting you.”

He sighed, looking past Penelope toward her apartment. “I know that.”

She took a chance and reached for his hands. He let her lace their fingers together, and a very small, scared part of Penelope relaxed.

“She’s not wrong, though,” Schneider added quietly. 

“What?”

“I’m not your type. And you’ve never wanted a no-strings affair before. You said it yourself once. You can’t have sex without love…usually.”

“Hey, shut up.” She squeezed his hands, worried when he wouldn’t make eye contact. “Elena’s sixteen years old. She has no idea what she’s talking about. I don’t have a type. And what we’ve got is good. It’s working. Isn’t it?”

He smiled a little. “Yeah, we were having fun.”

 _Were?_ The past-tense set off alarm bells in Penelope’s head. With a flash of certainty, she knew what she had to do…and suddenly she wasn’t scared anymore.

“I have to go talk to Elena,” she told him, wrapping him in a quick hug, pulling back before Schneider had a chance to respond.

“Pen, you know I love her too, right? She’s an amazing kid.”

“Yes. I know.”

“Tell her I’m not mad at her. I don’t want her to worry about that. We’re good.”

Penelope nodded. “And you and me? Are we…good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll see you in the morning for _un cafecito.”_

She watched him go, thinking over all the little moments that she had been content to let pass by. Things she would have obsessed over with another man, things that coalesced into a clear picture if only she was paying attention. 

Schneider had never held back from her, not his affection, or his support, no matter what else they were facing in their lives. He told her the truth, even when it was a risk.

It was time for her to return the favor.

****

Elena was still sitting on the couch when Penelope came home. 

_“Abuelita_ left,” she told her mom. “She took Alex with her.”

“Ah. All right.” Penelope sat down, folding her hands in her lap and trying to figure out how to begin. This wasn’t like telling the kids that she was dating again. Schneider was important to all of them, and her decision to start something with him–one she had made without their knowledge–would affect their lives, too.

“Elena, what you said about Schneider before, you were way out of line. You owe him an apology.”

Her daughter frowned. “An apology for what? I wasn’t insulting him–I said how great he is.”

“You also went on a rant about how inferior he is to every guy I’ve ever dated. It doesn’t matter that he’s my friend–and yours, and Alex’s. That’s a really horrible thing to feel.”

Penelope watched Elena puzzle over that. “It would be like somebody talking about how bad a girlfriend you would be for Carmen, with you standing right there. Listing off the parts of you that you feel insecure about, things that maybe you don’t even like about yourself.”

“Oh, God.” Elena’s eyes widened. “Mom, I didn’t mean it like that! I didn’t–I was just trying to make _Abuelita_ understand that men and women can be friends.”

“Which is true.” Penelope swallowed and dove in. “Except in this case, your _Abuelita_ wasn’t wrong."

**“What?”**

She almost laughed. “Listen. I know that you think you know absolutely everything about the world, and social justice, and even about me. But the older you get, Elena, the more you’re going to learn that nothing is black and white.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’m your _Mami,_ and I love who I am, as your _Mami._ But that’s not all that I am. The other parts of me, you can’t fully understand those yet. You may never be able to understand them–and that’s okay.”

“Mom. Are you trying to tell me that you’re into Schneider?”

“I’m trying to explain to you that he and I like each other. We like each other a lot. And you don’t have to get it. But you need to keep in mind that who Schneider is to you, how you see him…that’s only a part of who **he** is, too.”

“I think Schneider’s great,” Elena protested. “He totally loves you. But he’s nothing like _Papi,_ or Max. He doesn’t do relationships, and you **only** do relationships. So where does that leave you?”

“We’re still figuring that out.” She wrapped an arm around Elena, resting her cheek against the top of her daughter’s head.

“I’m really sorry I hurt his feelings,” Elena said.

“I know you are. He’s coming for coffee in the morning. I think you should tell him that.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Elena pulled back to face her. “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“You should, too.”

“Should what?”

Elena smiled, in one of those moments Penelope was experiencing with alarming frequency. Her little girl was growing up to be a shrewd, intuitive woman. A lot like her _Abuelita._

“You should tell him.”

****

Schneider opened the door mid-yawn, his hair sticking up in all directions while Penelope offered him a hesitant smile.

“I’m really not in the mood,” he told her, his voice rough with sleep. It made Penelope want to burrow under blankets with him and forget the ugly scene with her family, if only that were an option.

Unfortunately, they were long past cozy snuggling and late night drop-bys now. 

“I didn’t come for that,” she replied. “I need to ask you something.”

Schneider sighed. “I’m not especially in the mood for that, either, Penelope. Can’t it wait until the morning?”

“No.” She walked past him into his dimly lit apartment, flicking the wall switch on her way.

“Well, feel free to come on in,” he said, annoyed.

“This isn’t a _‘coffee with my Mami’_ conversation, okay? And it can’t wait.”

“It’s 3AM,” he replied, squinting in the bright light of his living room. “What’s so pressing that you had to interrupt my sleep, and yours? Don’t you have to work in five hours?”

Penelope sat on his couch, waiting until he joined her. “Today sucked, okay? It was bad. You didn’t deserve that, and Elena was way off base. But I couldn’t sleep, I need to ask you something, and when I’m done, you can go back to bed. I’ll leave you alone.”

He rubbed both hands over his face. “I told you, Elena and I are fine.”

“Yes, you did. You love her, and she loves you back and it’s all good. Right?”

Perplexed by her tone, he sat up straighter. “Right.”

“Do you love me?”

“You know I do,” he said, without hesitating. “You and Lydia and the kids, you’re my family.”

She shook her head. “No. Schneider. Are you **in** love with me?”

“I…” His forehead creased in the center when he paused. “That’s what you came here in the middle of the night to ask me?”

She nodded.

“Pen, what’s going on?”

“I love you.”

Penelope let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Wow, that actually felt really good. Huh.” She smiled at him.

“I’m in love with you, Schneider.”

He was staring at her, but with absolutely no expression–and his was one she could usually read easily.

She waved a hand in front of him like maybe he was on screensaver. “You there?”

When Schneider’s smile bloomed, it took over his entire face, and Penelope almost couldn’t handle it.

The slow spread of hope and joy, without any of the self-doubt she knew Schneider tried hard to cover…watching it felt like hitting the very top of a Ferris wheel and then swaying in place while that falling sensation settled into something brilliant.

That's what it was like, knowing before he said a word that Schneider loved her back. It was radiant.

“I’m in love with you, too, Penelope.” His grin threatened to blind her. “I still think this could’ve waited until morning, though. It’d be like our very own romantic Cuban coffee commercial.”

She laughed, muttering _“payaso”_ under her breath as she moved in to kiss him.

“Even so,” Penelope said once her head was resting on his shoulder. “I thought it might be good to have the talk **not** in front of _Mami_ and the kids.”

“Oh, God, your family,” he remembered. “What are we gonna tell them? I mean…we are going to tell them. Right?”

“Done with secrets,” she agreed firmly. “And we are **so** far past casual. But you can breathe, Schneider. They already know.”

“You–”

“I didn’t tell them,” she replied. “But you know my mom’s questions this morning weren’t exactly hypothetical. Though I didn’t get too deep into the details with Elena, she knows how I feel. And Alex…well, _Mami_ took him out to dinner, and she must have told him something–he spent the night looking at me like he doesn’t recognize me anymore.”

Penelope kissed his cheek. “It’ll take him a minute, but he adores you. It’s going to be fine.”

“So, no more secrets, no more talking around our feelings…” Schneider blinked at her from behind his thick frames. “What now?”

“Well, I’ve got at least two hours before anybody realizes I’m not in bed where I belong.” She ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying how soft it was without product. “And I’m guessing you’ve got fresh sheets on your bed that smell like mint.”

Schneider grinned. “They’re Wonder Woman,” he whispered, brushing her mouth with his. “Maybe part of me was hoping you’d stop by.”

“Nice. That was a pretty good movie.” She pulled him closer for a deeper kiss.

He rested his hand against her cheek. “I was talking about you.”

Penelope made that face he loved, where she was smiling but trying not to show it, which never worked–but it was cute that she tried. Like she wasn’t allowed to be soft, and open, and with him, she was anyway.

“Back massage?” She gazed up at him from under her eyelashes.

“Oh, like I don’t know what that means,” Schneider replied. “You just want to lure me to that luxurious Wonder Woman bed and take advantage of me.”

“Well, yes.” Penelope linked her hands behind Schneider’s neck while she settled herself on his lap and enjoyed his response. “But I thought I’d do you this time.”

“Ha. In that case…” Schneider stood, taking her with him in a surprisingly casual lift. “Might as well make the most of the two hours.” 

****

He kept her a half hour longer than she meant to stay, emboldened by the truth coming out.

“You can shower here,” he told her, nuzzling the back of her neck. “Save time.”

His shower was like staying in a fancy spa, but it took her twice as long to get clean once he stepped in after her. 

Schneider really was good with his hands.

When Penelope snuck into her own apartment, her _Mami_ was already up and making the coffee. She just smiled and went back to dancing in the kitchen.

Perhaps Berto was accompanying her in her mind; maybe she was happy enough alone. Penelope couldn’t be sure. But it meant something that the queen of passionate romance approved of her and the man who waited a whole two minutes before he followed her up.

Looking mussed and relaxed and not at all tired, Schneider took the cup of coffee Lydia handed him at the door, beaming as she kissed his cheek. He closed his eyes while he sipped to the salsa music playing cheerfully from behind the curtain.

When Penelope crossed the room and kissed him next, with a nearly-indecent amount of heat, Schneider almost dropped the cup.

“Good morning, Schneider,” Lydia trilled from the kitchen, enjoying the way he reddened when he pulled back from her daughter. “Did _ju_ have a good night?”

Was there any way he could answer that question? “I…”

 _“Mami.”_ Penelope rolled her eyes. “Don’t tease him.”

“I was just asking.” She smiled again, fondly this time, and held out a hand. “Come. You can help me make _Papito’s_ breakfast.”

“What about Elena?”

Lydia waved a hand. “I no longer know what that one eats or does not eat. You could make her toast.”

Still feeling a little self-conscious, Schneider kissed Pen quickly and went to join Lydia in the kitchen. 

She could hear the kids stirring as she headed for her room to change. _Hopefully Alex would relax once he saw that Schneider was still…Schneider,_ she thought as she pulled on her scrubs. 

Elena would apologize over coffee, and Lydia would enjoy watching them eat her breakfast.

Schneider would aim that warm smile of his at her while the conversation flowed around them, and it would be just about perfect.

Which for Penelope these days was just perfect enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everybody who read and enjoyed this! It started out as my weirdest idea yet but I'm glad I went for it.

**Author's Note:**

> All titles borrowed from "I Believe In A Thing Called Love" by The Darkness.


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